In Captivity
by Phoenix Donovan
Summary: When Harry is offered a new mission from the Order to house someone who is in grave danger, he readily accepts, only to regret it when he finds out who he has to live with. HarryDraco, SeverusSirius.
1. Chapter 1

Title: In Captivity

Author: Phoenix Donovan

Summary: Voldemort has been defeated, but Death Eaters still roam. When Harry is offered a new mission from the Order to house someone who is in grave danger of being captured, he readily accepts—only to regret it when he finds out who he has to live with. Pairings: Harry/Draco and Severus/Sirius right now. Rated M for sexuality in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Chapter One

Jet black hair and bright green eyes could be found that evening in the small cottage that rested just outside of Hogsmeade, the hair being messy and wrung with long, curious fingers, the eyes shifting lazily among the words of a certain poem. Harry Potter was sitting in a soft brown rocking chair in front of the fire, his legs sprawled out in front of him in a strange fashion. He had slipped from his previous upright position as he slipped in and out of consciousness—if it was from the warm blaze of the fire or the book Hermione had given him, titled William Shakespeare's Sonnets, it was uncertain. What was certain was that Harry Potter, age 18, was currently residing in a small cottage home by himself. His best friend Ron Weasley had just moved out one month ago to live with Hermione Granger, whom he was newly engaged to, and in the nights when he would usually be up drinking and laughing (not unusually accompanied by his godfather Sirius or Ron's brothers Fred and George), he was suddenly alone, reading this book Hermione had bought him or meeting with the Order more than he had to.

Harry had almost entirely slipped off the rocking chair when a sudden spit and crack of the fire alerted him back to consciousness—he recognized that sound. Had Ron decided to stop by for a drink? But it wasn't a head of blazing red hair that Harry saw when he looked upon the fire; it was a handsome face, piercing black eyes, and long black hair that he saw, smiling up at him.

"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed, throwing the book aside and crouching down in front of the fire.

"Hello, Harry," Sirius replied. "How are you doing?"

Harry took a deep breath and sat back, frowning. "Fine, I guess," he said, shrugging. "You know."

Sirius frowned slightly. "I'm sorry, Harry—Ron still upsetting you?"

Harry flushed—he felt embarrassed, being 18 years old and seeming jealous that his best friend had left him for—Hermione. It was only Hermione, after all. Besides, it's not like he never saw Ron anymore. In fact, they had just gone for a bite to eat yesterday.

"No," Harry decided to say. "It's just going to take some getting used to."

Sirius chuckled. "Yes. It's the getting used to part that's the bitch, isn't it?"

Harry smiled, glad that he had his godfather to speak to. "So what's up?"

"Actually, Harry—I need to speak to you in person, about something important. Do you mind if I floo over? You never know who could be watching the networks."

"Yeah, of course," Harry said. Sirius's head disappeared and Harry stepped back from the fire—a moment later, a tall man stepped through the fireplace.

"Whiskey, Harry!" Sirius said, smiling. Harry smiled back and grabbed a couple of glasses and a bottle of firewhiskey from the kitchen.

"Thanks," Sirius said, and sat down on the couch beside his godson. Harry watched him sip his drink. He looked pensive.

"Sirius," Harry prompted. "What is it you need to talk about?"

"Well," Sirius said, setting his drink down on the coffee table. "It's news from the Order." He turned to Harry. "Severus has a proposition for you."

"Proposition?"

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, as if nervous, his eyes straying. "There is someone who needs protection, Harry. Extra protection. The Death Eaters are after a lot of people, but especially him."

"Who is it?"

"Severus wouldn't tell me. He thinks it would be best not to repeat names—it could get into the wrong hands, somehow."

Harry nodded. "I understand."

"Harry—would you be willing to house this person?"

"Me? Er—sure, I suppose."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure? It's a bit of a responsibility."

Harry opened his mouth to argue.

"No—I didn't mean it like that," Sirius said quickly. "I know you can handle your own. It's just…I know you've been going through a bit right now, what with Ron and Hermione…"

Harry felt himself flushing again. He couldn't believe that he was letting a member of the Order—even if it _was_ only his godfather—would doubt him because of a personal issue.

"No, Sirius, I'm fine, really."

"I know."

"I can do it. I'd be glad to do it."

"I know."

They sat in silence for a moment, Sirius finishing his drink, Harry realizing that he had barely touched his.

Sirius stood up and smiled down at Harry. "I'd better be going. Severus will think I died or something…"

Harry stood up too. "Right. Um…when should I expect this person?"

"Tomorrow, I assume," Sirius said, grabbing some floo powder. "They want to move him as soon as possible." He turned to Harry before he threw the powder into the fire. "Dinner soon, then, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "Yeah. That sounds nice."

---

At half past two in the morning, Sirius was wide awake, hands behind his head, staring up at the blank ceiling.

"Could you stop doing that?" a voice muttered from the body lying beside him.

"Stop doing what?"

"Brooding."

"I'm sorry," Sirius said. "I thought you were asleep."

"I can't sleep while you're brooding," Severus said, "it makes me terribly uneasy."

"How unkind of me," Sirius said, and rolled over onto his side. "Is this better?"

"You're still brooding, whether you're staring up at the ceiling or not."

"I just hate lying to Harry."

"Oh, for Christ's sake." Severus sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. "Up then, get on with it, now."

Sirius sat up beside him, leaning against the backboard, his eyes staring straight ahead.

"Like I said, I hate lying to Harry."

Severus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "We couldn't have told Harry. He wouldn't have done it."

"Give Harry more credit, Severus," Sirius said, looking at Snape and grinning slightly. "I'm sure he would take anyone in if it helped the Order. Even you maybe. _Maybe_."

Snape snorted. "Yes, I wouldn't go as far as to include me in that little scenario."

"Does he know he's staying with Harry, then?"

Snape hesitated. "No."

"How delightfully wicked of you," Sirius said. "Well, at least I won't be the only hated Godfather around. You know, if this weren't so manipulative, I might be able to find the situation humorous."

"Oh, I find it quite humorous, fueled by the manipulativity of it, of course."

Sirius laughed and kissed Severus deeply. Severus let out a small moan and twisted his fingers in Sirius's hair.

"I can't sleep while you do this, either…" he murmured.

Sirius smiled. "Good."

---

Harry had been pacing in front of the fireplace all day, feeling terribly anxious. He had tried, at first, to sit calmly and read his book, but had soon grown so bored that it made him feel even more anxious, and so he placed the book aside and sat staring at the fire, wondering if he could quite possibly will his guest to floo here sooner…

It wasn't until five after one that the fire gave any indication of disturbance. Harry froze in place and stared at it flicker and crack one moment, and the next, Severus Snape was stepping into his living room.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," Snape said, looking around at Harry, then at the room. "Charming."

"Snape?" Harry said, confused. "What—"

But all of a sudden, the fire cracked again. The first thing Harry saw was a pair of very expensive, very shiny black leather boots. The next thing he saw made him catch his breath at the shock of it—a very slim, very pale young man with white-blonde hair was coughing up a storm as he stepped into the room.

"God, I hate floo," Draco Malfoy complained, rubbing his eyes. He shook his hair, trying to free it of ash, and began to brush off his robes. "Look Severus, I've got soot all over me—"

Severus could only stifle a grin as Draco noticed Harry, the two staring at each other as if they had never seen a man before.

"I'll be going, then," Severus said, grabbing some floo powder and sweeping back toward the fire.

"Snape," Harry said, after the initial shock had worn off. "Explain."

Snape turned around, eyes narrowed. "You shall address me by my first name, Mr. Potter. And I believe Sirius explained everything perfectly well yesterday. Draco needs a place to stay, and you were more than willing to accommodate him."

"Not _him_," Harry growled. "Sirius told me that someone needed help. But not_ him_."

"Well it's a bit too late to go back on your word with the Order now, isn't it Potter?" Snape said, his eyes gleaming. "And a bit childish, too. I'll be sure to pass this on to the rest of the Order."

Harry clamped his mouth shut, jaw clenched.

"The Leaky Cauldron!" Severus roared, and he was gone in a spark of green flames.

Harry looked back at Draco.

"Did you know about this?" Harry asked.

"No." Draco crossed his arms, sneering around at the room. "They expect me to stay here? This place is—"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said. "You're stuck here, so get used to it."

Harry grabbed his book and turned to walk back to his bedroom.

"Where are you going, Potter?"

"Away from you," Harry snapped, opening his bedroom door.

"But where will I sleep?" Draco said, gazing around fretfully. "On the floor?"

"There is a guest bedroom," Harry growled, pointing down the hall. He went into his room and locked the door, too stunned and angry to do anything else.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: In Captivity

Author: Phoenix Donovan

Summary: Voldemort has been defeated, but Death Eaters still roam. When Harry is offered a new mission from the Order to house someone who is in grave danger of being captured, he readily accepts—only to regret it when he finds out who he has to live with. Pairings: Harry/Draco and Severus/Sirius right now. Rated M for sexuality in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Chapter Two

Harry didn't leave his bedroom for three days, save the necessary apparition to the bathroom; fortunately, he had been successful in not apparating in on Draco. He wondered if Draco was even there anymore, or if he had requested that the Order relocate him. Perhaps Harry would receive an owl any day now from Ron and Hermione explaining how Draco had been assigned to live with_ them_, and telling him off for not being able to gain composure about this ridiculous situation, casting burdens on them, etc.

But no such owl came, and by the morning of the fourth day, Harry awoke to a horrible ripping in his stomach, accompanied by a humongous growl. He groaned in discomfort and stood up, having to grab on to the bedpost before falling over from dizziness. Suddenly, a delicious smell filled his nostrils, and his stomach seemed to be dragging him away from his bed—he could smell food, wonderful food, and he didn't even seem to have control anymore, his primal senses guiding him.

He lunged into the eggs, bacon, and cheese biscuits sitting on the kitchen table, so enthralled with them that he didn't see the slim blonde sitting eloquently at the table.

"Ah, so The-Boy-Who-Lived is still alive; I thought you might have died locked up in your room all this time."

Harry set his biscuit down and grabbed a jug of pumpkin juice from the fridge. Draco lit a fag, causing Harry's nostrils to flare unpleasantly.

"No smoking," he said, pouring himself a glass of juice. Draco ignored him, stood up, and walked into the living room. Harry watched him intently.

"I'm feeling a bit itchy," Draco said. "Are the sheets on the guest bed clean—"

"Look," Harry interrupted, going into the living room after him. "You need to explain some things to me. Quite a few things, actually."

"Like what?" Draco snapped. Harry grabbed the fag out of his slender fingers and threw it in the trash.

"Like why the last time I saw you was on top of the Astronomy tower at Hogwarts with the Dark Mark looming over it, and you were trying to murder Dumbledore, for starters."

Draco swore under his breath and sat down on the couch, arms crossed.

"Fine," Harry said, eyes flashing with anger. "Don't tell me anything. I'll just try to get used to the fact that there's a Death Eater living under my roof."

---

"He's late," Hermione said, frowning. "I hope he's all right." She fidgeted with her napkin, looking around the pub anxiously.

"He's fine, Hermione—look, there he is right now."

Ron and Hermione greeted Harry with warm smiles as he walked in; he gave a weak smile in return, ordered a firewhiskey, and sat down.

"Firewhiskey? At this hour?" Hermione fretted.

Ron shot her a look. "What's up, mate?"

Harry thanked the waitress and took a long sip before saying, "Malfoy is living at the cottage."

"Hm? What cottage?" Hermione asked.

"My cottage."

"_What_?" Ron and Hermione exclaimed in unison.

Harry sighed. "The Order needed a place to hide him."

"And you agreed to it?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide with shock.

"_No_. I didn't know it would be _him_."

"I thought he was a Death Eater," Ron said in a low voice.

"You should speak to Sirius about this," Hermione said. "Who assigned Draco to you?"

Harry scowled. "Snape."

"I knew it!" Ron growled. "Probably his idea of a joke."

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well…"

"What?" Ron asked; both boys looked at her.

"Well. Look. I trust Snape, don't you?"

"Yeah," Ron scoffed. "To a point."

"Snape used to be one of Them, and you see how he turned out."

"Shagging Sirius Black?" Ron said.

"Don't remind me," Harry groaned. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him and he shifted uneasily in his seat. "You know what I mean."

"So anyway, it can't be as bad as it seems. Talk to Sirius, Harry. He'll know what's going on."

---

Severus rather fancied pink pajamas. No one knew this of course, except for Sirius. And Severus liked to keep it that way. He was pacing back and forth in the living room, waiting for Sirius to return home from a midnight apparition to the grocery for some wine, when he spotted Harry's head in the fireplace—or rather, Harry spotted him in his pink pajamas.

"Potter!" Snape jumped. Harry wasn't doing a very good job of hiding the smirk on his face. Severus sneered. "Come to complain a little more about Mr. Malfoy?"

"I need to speak to Sirius," Harry said in a hard tone.

"He's—"

"Harry?" Sirius apparated into the kitchen, set the wine on the table, and strided past Severus to crouch in front of the fire. "What's going on? It's after midnight."

"You two are up," Harry pointed out. Sirius and Severus looked at each other. Sirius sighed and looked back at Harry. "Well, what is it then?"

"I need to talk to you in private," Harry said, casting a look at Severus. Severus rolled his eyes and strolled into the kitchen to open the wine.

"Okay now, Harry—what is it?"

"I need you to explain to me what Draco Malfoy is doing—"

"Sh! Harry! No, not this way. Can you floo over?"

"Oh—wow, sorry," Harry apologized, and in a couple of moments he was standing in Sirius's living room.

"I need you to explain to me what Draco Malfoy is doing in my guest bedroom."

"Well I assume that's where he's been sleeping."

Harry gave him a deadly look.

"Okay, sorry. But Harry, I told you. He's in danger, the Death Eaters are after him—"

"Why is that, then?"

"Lucius Malfoy, in particular, wants him on their side."

"Isn't he already?"

"No Harry, he's not. Draco was forced by Lucius to become a Death Eater when he was 16. Only Severus knew the truth."

"The truth?"

Sirius sighed. "Draco's greatest fear is that he will turn out like his father, but it took him a very long time to accept that. And as Draco's godfather, Severus refused to let him go down the path of a Death Eater."

"How come no one told me?"

"No one knew. I didn't know until shortly before you did. It's too dangerous for Draco. He's been hiding ever since—"

"Ever since that night he and Snape ran from Hogwarts."

"Yes, Harry, I believe so."

Harry was silent, taking this all in.

"Are you two done chatting?" Severus asked, sweeping into the living room with two glasses of wine.

"I was just leaving," Harry said, and he stepped back into the fireplace.


End file.
